


The One Where Dean Tells Sam

by taylorwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Romance, Sam - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorwrites/pseuds/taylorwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t mean to tell Sam, but in the end, it’s found to be terribly inevitable.</p><p>This is the one you’ve been waiting for. The one where Dean tells Sam how he feels about their—or, really, his—angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Dean Tells Sam

**Author's Note:**

> Post season 8. Not exactly sure when or where it takes place, but it's just a general fluffy fic to get us through the sadness of this season. There’s also a pretty sweet Destiel kiss if you get to the end ;)
> 
> Happy reading, shippers!

The impala, it seems, can never be driven without a proper soundtrack. And though it’s been years since Sam first made fun of Dean’s cassette tape collection, the hunter has yet to replace them. Thus the reason why Metallica played on, loud and proud, on the drive back to the bunker (or, as Dean called it in his head, the drive back to Castiel).

                           ”Never cared for what they say  
                                          Never cared for  _games they play_  
                                                       Never cared for what  **they**  do  
                                                                    Never cared for what  **they**  know  
                                                 _And I know—_ ”

The music cut off quite suddenly, sending Dean glaring at his younger brother. “Dude!” 

Sam spread his hands, an innocent expression on his face. “I didn’t touch it.”

Dean slowed the impala to a stop, moving to inspect the radio. Jabbing fingers found their way into the slot for the tapes, and he turned to Sam. “Sammy. Tell me right now—did you touch my baby?”

Eyes rolled, and Sam focused his gaze on his older brother. “I told you—it wasn’t me. When you left me and Cas in the car to go off on your…  _pie run…_ he was fiddling with the buttons. I don’t, ah, think Metallica suits him.” He had this smug little smirk on his lips, giving an amused shake of his head.

"That sonofabitch…" Dean murmured, rolling his eyes. But instead of growling or cursing or calling up the fallen angel and giving him an earful, he shook his head, letting his lips form what looked like a smile before they fell to a neutral appearance.

Sam paused, staring at his brother before he looked back to the road with a little chuckle. “Uh, you know, if that were me, you’d have my head on a platter. Cas just  _broke_ the  _impala’s_ radio.”

Dean could only shrug, eyes never diverting from the road ahead. “Yeah, well, the guy just fell from grace, Sam. I decided I could cut him a little bit of slack. Besides, can’t stay mad at him.”

This was, in fact,  _Dean_ that Sam was talking to, right? As far as he could tell, no signs of possession, and the Leviathans were a vaguely forgotten nightmare. The younger Winchester could only blink, staring at Dean with outright shock. “Oh? And why is that?” Maybe he was pushing him, maybe he just wanted to test Dean’s limits.

But Dean, it seemed, was trying to be relatively calm. “’Cause I love the little guy,” he said with a laugh, as though that lessened the weight of his statement.  It seemed like eons before Sam said something. Long enough to make Dean glance over at him and fidget in his seat.  _Shit._ The statement was meant casually, said in the way that Dean said he loved small dogs, or babies, or other adorable pests.

“… You do!” Sam almost screamed, sitting up straighter in his seat. Ah, revelations. How sweet they tasted. How long had Sam been debating this? How long had  _Dean_ been denying it?

“The hell are you goin’ on abou—“

“I knew it. I… damnit, man, if Bobby were here, he’d owe me all the beer he could carry!” Sam slapped his thigh and then that little smirk was back on his lips, and he was staring at Dean in  _that way,_ that obnoxiously knowing way.

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffed, shook his head—anything negative he could do via body language for a good five seconds, he did. “You’re outta your mind.”

“Yeah, might be—doesn’t change the fact that you love Cas.”

With a lick of his lips, Dean grunted and swerved the Impala on the road, pulling her over to the side and jerking her to a stop so quickly, Sam couldn’t even muster a gasp. Not that he would have, anyway. With an ache in his stomach, he shut her off and turned to face his little brother. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ tell him that.”

“… why the hell  _not?”_

Dean sighed, as though this were something Sam should have already known. “Because… well, b-because… because he’s  _Cas,_ damn it. He’s a fuckin’ angel, for God’s sakes.  _Literally._  I mean… shit, Sammy, don’t you find this weird?”

Sam could only blink and offer a limp shrug of his shoulders. “Saw it coming.”

“… you  _what?”_ Right, Dean, act surprised—it’s not like you’ve made it obvious.

Sam laughed lightly and looked out the window. “Look, Dean, I know—it’s weird. It’s totally weird. But so is hunting monsters. So is the fact that angels have fallen, and  _God_ is completely gone. In retrospect, we’ve seen weirder. And honestly? I think you deserve this. Man, I—I know it hurt when everything with… Lisa and Ben happened. But you haven’t let yourself have a good thing since, and Cas—with all of his faults—is a  _good thing._ It doesn’t take a genius to see how you guys look at each other, or what you mean to each other.  _And_ it  _also_ doesn’t take a genius to know that there is no god-damn way you’re as straight as you like to pretend you are. Shit, why can’t you just let yourself admit that through everything, with you and Cas saving each other’s asses all the time, you love him?”

During his speech, Dean didn’t speak  _once._ He sat there, stony-faced, not bothering to nod or shake his head or even blink. But he grit his teeth, steered the Impala back on the road, and the boys continued on.

When they showed up at the bunker, Sam sensed something was up with his brother, something more than the internal conflict. There was a strong determination in his eyes, and he walked with nothing but sheer purpose. His voice was awfully hard when he finally did speak. “Sammy, stay outside until I tell you to come in.”

“Wait, what? Dean, what are you—“

“ _Sammy. Stay. Out. Side.”_

And so the good little solider marched right in, leaving a small crack in the doorway, enough for Sam to peak in and see Cas stand up from the table when Dean came in. And his voice was very quiet, so Sam could just make out his greeting, voice more cheerful than it ever was when he talked to  _Sam,_ for that matter.  He then heard Dean’s voice, husky and deep, growl the words—or, the way he said it, the  _word—sonofabitch._ Immediately, their friend tensed up, looking nervous and beginning to apologize for whatever damage he had done.

And through the crack in the door, Sam watched Dean storm right through Cas’s words, grab the fallen angel’s face in his hands, and push him up against the wall so hard that only his lips could silence Cas’s noise of pain. Sam watched in stunned silence as his bright blue gaze focused, and then fluttered closed. His shaking hand reached up to grab Dean’s shoulder, head canting to the side as though the two of them had done this all before. Idly, in a state of shock, Sam had to wonder if they had. He was able to catch Dean’s lips move against Castiel’s, as though saying something—and whatever he said caused the latter to stop and stare, and whisper something in return before they resumed… their activities.

Sam decided that right about now was a good time to close the door, and go for a drive.

 


End file.
